"But, mamma, what if you should find 
that they are not both dead?” 
“ What if I should find that, we were all 
back in the old home unchanged ? Maggie, 
don’t talk nonsense.” 
“ Mamma, I know that Alfred’s living.” 
" How do you know it? Tell me.” 
" Because she has scon me—the best proof 
in the world, mother, darling," and Alfred 
clasped his mother to bis heart. 
“ Now if George were here, and father,” 
said she, instinctively turning to the light, 
•* we could be happy again.” 
"Seems to old Hannibal,” said that per¬ 
sonage, suddenly appearing, "dat we got 
nuIT to bo happy about, widout calling any¬ 
body back from do heabenly land. Better 
lot um stay dar, and make de most ob what 
we hub left. Massa Alfred, Hannibal 
glad to seo you.” 
Alfuf.d put his arms round the faithful 
old negro's neck, and tears streamed down 
the black cheeks as the young master — 
master no longer—told him he had remem¬ 
bered him with love through the loug sepa¬ 
ration. 
Susan’s greeting came next. Susan, the 
same haughty, impassive, beautiful woman 
that A lfked had left in Virginia. But why 
attempt to describe in detail that which is 
indeed indescribable? Ned and HARRY 
wore apprised of the great event, and the 
happy group, gathered in the dune twilight, 
forgot all regrets in that sweetest of occu¬ 
pations, the recounting of past perils to the 
sympathetic heart of love. 
Of course the Inevitable result of that 
meeting in the park was a marriage. The 
ceremony was performed at the house of a 
certain eloquent clergyman whom Hope 
loved well, and whose ministrations she had 
attended since her baby hood. Maggie and 
Harry wore the sole attendants. Hanni¬ 
bal fretted a little at not seeing the thing 
Join;, but he contented himself with saying: 
" What bo a ceremony, anyhow, especially 
when dar be no white dresses and no flow¬ 
ers, and no veils, and nothing. But HANNI- 
ii al spectra all dose tings of little ’count 
compared wid tie true love that Massa Al¬ 
fred and Miss Hope hub in their bressed 
hearts. Hey de Lord's own fleeted ones; 
dat be a fact fixed as dat dar be a Lord. 
IIann t ual alius said, out loud, you take 
courage, Miss Hope, ho come back. But 
Hannibal must ’fess, on dis happy day, 
“ We have waited long, and we must wait 
longer still.” 
" And you are Hope still?" said Maggie. 
"Yes,” answered the darling girl, but 
utterly, as she spoke. 
breaking down, 
"Can’t we be alone, Maggie, to-night. 
I would rather not sec any one but you.” 
"Yes, dear} SUSAN shall bring our dinner 
here to this little room, that I have called 
Hope’s room ever since we have been here. 
" Thank you, Maggie. To-morrow I shall 
bo stronger. It’s all right, Maggie. V • 
won’t despair yet.” 
Alfred Heatiieustone had experienced 
strange vicissitudes since parting from his 
friends. For mouths he had followed his 
profession in the army, bravely and untir¬ 
ingly yielding to all that it demands of a 
loyal soul and tender heart. Many a poor 
fellow had reason to bless Hr. Hkatuer- 
stonh for the life he had saved, and manj 
a life went out more peacefully for the lov- 
iug sympathy of the large-hearted surgeon. 
Suddenly Alfred disappeared. lie was 
last neon upon an English frigate, by a P”' 
lito figure of speech called neutral, and his 
friends who were in communication with 
the IT K. A Tit EltSTO N E3 did not possess even 
this clue to liis whereabouts. To his family 
his fate was an absolute blank, lhe frignt< , 
whose mate he hud been called to attend, 
had suddenly headed for insular Europe, 
warned by the vicinity of an iron clad, the 
commander of which understood her “ neu¬ 
tral ” character, without so much as taking 
time to land the men on board who did not 
belong to her. Protestations were useless. 
The captain was thoroughly scared, and 
said Hope, 
1 think Al- 
1,oping; I have only put oil tne reunion 
time ft little.” 
“I don’t believe you arc right, Hope. 1 
think you will bo happy in this world; per¬ 
haps not very soon, but you are _\ oung j el • 
Hope— too young to talk in this way.” 
Through the busy city the slow cars 
wound their way, and soon the frieuds were 
in the open Park, wit h the sky smiling and 
serene above them, the soft, turf beneath 
their feet, and verdure and bloom on every 
side. 
“There is a little summer-house down on 
the border of the lake, ’ said Hope, the 
prettiest place in the Park; let’s go there.” 
Ho, toward the summer-house they turned 
(heir steps, and eaoil absorbed in their own 
thoughts, did not observe, I ill close to t he 
in Liverpool. The anxiety or mis toroeu 
voyage, combined with previous overwork, 
and the wear and tear of heart and head in¬ 
cident to his position and his relations, 
threw Alfred into a brain fever before lie 
yvas half way across the Atlantic, and for 
weeks after his arrival In England Ik 1 was 
unconscious of all his surroundings. " hUc 
he lay in his darkened room in Liverpool, 
living over in his delirium the dreadful 
scones of tlie war, the old home yvas desert¬ 
ed, as we have seen, his little Maggie mar¬ 
ried, his darling Horn working patiently 
day after day in exile and sorrow, and when 
on Ids recovery, or partial recovery, ho left 
England thinking only of regaining his home 
and friends, no dream or doubt even had 
warned him of the change, llis only thought 
yvas, t he Avar is over and we aviII be happy 
again. Hope shall come to us, and then, if 
we cannot live in Virginia, we will go to 
seek our fortunes and make a new home for 
love and peace to dwell in. Tho new home 
was already made, and he went straight by 
it, seeking* for the old one. After resting 
at the St. Nicholas, he thought himself suf¬ 
ficiently strung to continue his journey, but 
before he was t wo hours from the city, on 
bis way to Washington, he fainted in the 
car. ... 
" There's no sense in keeping him on these 
cars,” said a passenger, who had been bat h- 
jug his head. “ What he needs is perfect rest 
and quiet. He is in a critical condit ion, suit 
must have been crazy to think of traveUilj 
alone." ., .. 
“Likely ’t.was necessary," said a mother 
ly old woman near by. Folks can t alway 
choose when to travel. _ 
“That's so- There, he’s coming to. Ho 
you feel better, sir? ” . 
" A little. Where am I—in Virginia . 
"In Virginia, indeed! Why, sir, you're 
not two hours out of Now York. You must 
stop at, the next station, and I will stop 
with you; I'm not in such a hurry that I 
can’t give a little time to a sick man. I was 
sick myself once in a foreign country, and 1 
shall never forget the kiuduess of a 6trauger 
who nursed me back to life.” 
In the little village where Alfred and 
his neAV friend found comfortable quarters, 
the Aveakness that had conquered him in 
frieud, confidant, consoler. He was so proud 
of the triumph of the Heatherstones over 
the adversities of fortune, that he could 
never say enough about it; and wheneA’er 
au audience could be found, he would de¬ 
scribe the grandeur of the old days, the 
subsequent tribulations, generally endiug 
with— 
" Hannibal know it all come right some¬ 
how. No more keep dis family down dau a 
cork. Dey bouu to swim on de high tide; 
dey made to be at de top, and dat is all dere 
iB about it.” 
“ Of course. But, how can we be sure ?’ 
" Did Miss Maggie* eber know a father 
dat ’fused de chillens what dey Avauted, if 
dey Avould give ho time to make t’inge come 
right?” 
" Well, Hannibal, God don’t always give 
us what we want.” 
"Not alius, Miss Maggie, what you tink 
you want; but if He take auyting aAvay, He 
alius put someting better iu de place, if de 
heart be right to ’oeive it." 
Do the best she could, Maggie could not 
think of Hope without dread. But she had 
not long to fear, for she received a letter 
soon after Harry’s return, saying that the 
exile would be Avith them that night. 
The aiternoon waned drearily, and while 
Susan, assisted by Maggie, prepared the 
simple dinner, old Hannibal Avntohed for 
the carriage. At last it rolled up to the door, 
aud Hope's sAveet face was seen at the win- 
cIoav. IIannibal went straight to the girl, 
Never Teach False Morality.— How 
exquisitely absurd to teach a girl that beau¬ 
ty is of no use! Beauty is of value her 
whole prospects and happiness in life may 
often depend upon a new goAvu or a becom¬ 
ing bonnet; if she has fiA’e graius of common 
sense, she aviII find this out. T. lie great 
thing is to teach her their just value, and 
that there must be something better under 
the bonnet then a pretty face, for real hap¬ 
piness. But never sacrifice truth.— Sydney 
Smith. 
Men and Angels— 11 When a man cues, 
says Mahomet, “the people ask. ‘ What pro¬ 
perty has he left behind him V But the an¬ 
gels, as they bend over his grave, inquire. 
1 What good deeds hast thou sent before 
thee?’ ” 
